Fightest's note: we're so close to being done here. If you don't mind, I'll take over and bring us over the finish line.
> You feel the Resurrection Butterfly wind again. Right hand on yours, left palm on the blade, she pulls and impales herself on your sword. Not even a second has passed but why are your arms so tired?
> Here it is again, the small advantage that is yours and yours alone. Youmu has to aim her body. You have but to aim your sword.
> Youmu pulls. You nudge.
> The divinely sharp sword enters her body like it were water, but that only makes your task so much easier. With tremendous effort you guide Gathering-Clouds-of-Heaven past nerve clusters, past bone, past blood vessels, past organs, past chakras, harming not a single one and through,
through, the tip of your sword emerging from her back bloodless.
> And with a sharp breath, Youmu regains control.
> "Hah," she gasps, trying to find words that just won't come. She looks down at your hands, still holding the sword that is buried in her abdomen to the hilt and laughs a giddy laugh.
> You tense to start pulling the sword out, but Youmu puts her hands on yours to stop you.
> "I," she starts, but again comes short of finding what to say. Instead, she shuffles in closer and wraps her arms around you. You can hear her giggling quietly.